


Surrender

by ember_firedrake



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ember_firedrake/pseuds/ember_firedrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You cannot decide to follow a man like that and then pick and choose when you deny him.”</i>
</p><p>(aka this is thoroughly self-indulgent orgasm denial porn that I've been dying to write, I make no apologies)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [iwaspromisedhedonism](http://iwaspromisedhedonism.tumblr.com/) for the encouragement.

_“You cannot decide to follow a man like that and then pick and choose when you deny him.”_

Silver wondered sometimes at those words that had come from his own mouth. He’d had no notion at that time how his and Flint’s relationship would alter. How tentative trust would become alarming reliance and ultimately, undeniable attraction. How he and Flint had eventually come together, a culmination of the frustration and fear and loneliness and—perhaps most frightening— _longing_ they’d both felt. 

Even if Silver had been able to admit what was underlying his fascination with Flint when he spoke those words, he never would have imagined their almost prescient nature. How there were times in this give and take of their relationship when Silver _did_ deny Flint, and how it had come to mean so much more. Silver was self-aware enough to acknowledge that it was his own need as much as Flint’s that drove this particular interplay between them. 

Flint gasped, hips hitching upwards as Silver’s oil-slicked finger traced the rim of his hole. Flint was naked, stripped bare and arching on the surface of his desk. When he'd entered his cabin and seen Silver sitting in his captain’s chair, naked to the waist with his trouser lacings undone as he slowly stroked his cock, there'd been no need for a verbal exchange about what would transpire. They'd done this sort of thing often enough that they could anticipate each other. In that moment, Flint had seen the need in Silver’s eyes, and had answered by wordlessly removing his clothes. 

Now, Flint’s breath hitched again, his thighs tense and trembling as Silver’s finger teased, almost but not quite giving him what he wanted. Always, Silver toyed with how long he could draw this out. How long he could just barely touch Flint before frustration got to better of him and—

“Ah, ah,” Silver chided, using his free hand to bat at Flint’s as he reached towards his half-hard cock. “No touching yourself. You’re going to come when I say, and not before.”

Flint let out an exhalation of breath that was half growl, though he moved his hand back to the surface of the desk. “Then _fuck_ me already.”

“In due time,” Silver said, finally relenting a small degree as he slid one finger into Flint. He knew the pressure wouldn’t be anywhere near enough for Flint, but he took his time, thrusting it slowly. Gently working muscle open as he avoided that spot which would bring Flint pleasure too quickly. “I know how you feel about asking for what you want,” Silver said, punctuating the _want_ with another thrust from his finger. “What you _need_. I know what it takes for you to admit that even to yourself. Which is why I’m not going to give it to you until you _beg_ me for it.” 

Flint tensed, and Silver stilled his movements. There was a moment sometimes, during these exchanges between them, when one of them would feel the need to extricate themselves. They had a word they’d designated for such purposes. There were hard lines that neither of them would cross; neither of them could bear humiliation, even knowing it wasn’t real. Silver waited, giving Flint the chance to back off if he chose.

“Fuck you,” Flint grated out, and Silver grinned, thrusting his finger again. Flint’s obstinacy was an assent, such as it was. It was a challenge, Flint telling Silver that he wouldn’t beg until he’d been thoroughly convinced. 

“I rather think it will be the other way around, don’t you?” Silver asked coyly, drawing his hand back and then pressing forward with two fingers instead of one. Flint let out a hiss of breath, but still didn’t relent. Silver loved this part, plying Flint, slowly working past his walls and defenses until Flint finally set aside his mantle of self-consciousness and there was just _him_. 

They’d done this with rope before, Silver using the knowledge he’d gained of sailor’s knots to tie Flint down, but he found he preferred it like this. When the only thing keeping Flint with his back on the desk, hands flat at his sides, was his own will. Silver was under no illusions about his own strength, and Flint was easily a match against even the most feared pirate captains. But here, like this, Flint relinquished that power willingly. He didn’t touch himself because Silver had commanded him not to. 

And _oh_ , how Silver needed this. The thrill it gave him, watching Flint submit and knowing he would do it for nobody else. Seeing the internal struggle as he fought to hold onto his composure, his pride, as Silver teased him, thrusting those fingers within him at an achingly slow pace. Flint’s cock was fully hard now, curved and leaking against his navel, though nothing had touched it since Flint had removed his clothing. 

Flint panted, trying to arch his hips to encourage the pace of Silver’s fingers. Silver moved his free hand to Flint’s stomach, splaying his hand wide across tense and sweat-soaked skin as he pressed down. A whine escaped Flint, and Silver slowed the fingers within him still further. Between one of Flint’s keening breaths and the next, Silver used three fingers to steadily open him. He felt Flint clench and relax around him in turns, and only once his body had adjusted did Silver thrust his hand again, increasing his pace as he fucked Flint open with his fingers. 

“ _Fuck_ —” Flint let out a choked-off sound somewhere between a broken moan and a sob. “John, _please_ , your cock...I need—” 

Silver made a gratified sound low in his throat, leaning forward to kiss the inside of Flint’s thigh before sitting back in the chair, withdrawing his hands and reaching once more for the oil. He slicked a generous amount on himself, then he touched Flint again, grappling for his hand. Silver guided Flint up from the desk and forward until he was braced over Silver, sinking down onto his cock. 

Flint’s breathing was ragged, his eyes glazed as he adjusted, thigh muscles trembling. His hands rested on the arms of the chair. Silver nuzzled at his face, his neck, his chest, knowing how the touch grounded Flint. He brought his hands to Flint’s hips, taking them in a firm grip as he guided them forward in a rocking thrust. 

That was the encouragement Flint needed. He raised his hips, using the chair arms as leverage before he thrust back down. Silver groaned, resisting the impulse to let his head fall back as Flint clenched around him. He felt _so good_ , but Silver couldn’t lose himself in this. Not yet. 

Silver kept his hands on Flint’s hips, guiding him into a rhythm that would keep pressure from that spot within Flint that would hasten his release. Flint gave a whine of frustration, but complied, rocking down on Silver’s cock while his own need went unanswered. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Silver breathed. Flint was beautiful like this, his body shifting, muscles tense with need even while he submitted, fucking himself on Silver. The pressure within Silver’s body was mounting rapidly, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He moved his hands to Flint’s back, clinging to him as Flint thrust down once more. Silver gasped against the skin of Flint’s collarbone, his body shuddering as he came deep within Flint. 

Silver’s awareness returned to him by degrees, as he nosed at the ridge of Flint’s collarbone. Gently, he shifted his hips back, extricating himself. He could feel Flint shiver, and though he knew the reason, he did not intend to act on it just yet. 

“John,” Flint said, and there was a desperate cadence to his voice. “I—can I come now?”

“Not yet,” Silver said, enjoying the shudder that passed through Flint when he said that. “On the desk again.”

Flint rose from the chair gingerly, moving until he was once more on the desk. He didn’t lie back fully this time, his upper body elevated by his elbows propped on the desk. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, desperation written in every line of his body. His cock was flushed and hard, the head leaving a slick trail on his abdomen. Still, aside from any incidental brushes, that part of his body had gone untouched since this whole thing had begun. How it must _ache_ now. 

Silver stood, ignoring the tingle of his stump against the boot as he shifted weight onto his good leg. He stepped until he was between Flint’s splayed legs, leaning over his body until his face was inches from the evidence of Flint’s arousal. Silver breathed deep, then exhaled, watching as Flint twitched beneath him. 

“ _Please_ ,” Flint pleaded. He sounded more wrecked than he had a moment ago. Still, he wasn’t _quite_ where Silver wanted him.

“Don’t come yet,” Silver warned, torso straightening. He reached down, pressing three fingers deep into Flint’s body still slickened by his release. Flint groaned openly, abandoning decorum as he arched upwards. 

“John— _John_ , please,” he babbled as Silver moved his hand rapidly, fucking Flint with his fingers. “It’s not enough, I _need_ —” 

“What do you need, James?” Silver asked, his voice gentle. “You _want_ my hand on your cock, but you don’t need it. You can come from this, I know you can.” 

Silver watched, awed, as Flint slumped back on the desk, utterly undone. _This_ was what Silver had wanted to see, Flint reaching a point of desperation where there was nothing left to him but that submission. Submission he had _chosen_. Nothing was preventing Flint from reaching for himself, even now. But he was pliant and yielding as Silver fucked him. Waiting for the moment when Silver would say—

“Now, James. Come _now_.”

A tremor went through Flint, and he sighed reverently as his cock pulsed, release painting his abdomen. He seemed to come down from it slowly, sagging against the desk, all the tension gone from his body. Silver drew his fingers from Flint, wiping his hand on a handkerchief and doing a cursory clean of the mess on Flint as well. Then, he reached for Flint, tugging him up from the desk and guiding them over to the more spacious window seat at the Walrus’ stern. 

Once there, Silver settled, pulling Flint against his body in a cradling embrace. He kissed Flint’s forehead, reveling in the contact, knowing how much Flint longed for that simple touch as well. 

Were it not for the reciprocal nature of what they shared, Silver would almost be frightened of it. Such need was terrifying, a manifestation of his own insecurities and lack of control in his life, that he needed to exert control over Flint, to see Flint submit. But he had come to enjoy a clarity with Flint that he rarely had elsewhere in his life, and he knew that just as much as he needed that control, Flint at times needed to relinquish it. So long as they were both on the same page in this particular expression of their vulnerabilities, Silver would try not to look too deeply into it. 

Silver turned his mind back to the present, enjoying the weight of Flint in his arms. These moments after were always deceptively serene; the calm before the storm. It was a needed respite before they turned their minds back to their duties, and looming war. 


End file.
